Fate
by xoxHannahBananaxox
Summary: Saturday detention never happened. Andrew and Allison get paired for a school project. AndyAllison fic. Detailed summery inside. Rated T to be on the safe side.
1. The Assignment

**Disclaimer: I don't own the Breakfast Club.**

**Summary: Saturday detention never happened. Andrew Clark is just a star athlete and Allison Reynolds is just that freaky girl in the back of the room. At least that's how they see each other. But what happens when Andy and Allison are paired for a school project? Will they look past their differences or will they still be controlled by the stereotypes of Shermer High School?**

**Author's Note: This is my first Breakfast Club fic, but don't go easy on me just because of that. If I'm doing something wrong let me know. I love suggestions and reviews! This fic was written as part of deal with my friend Kristen (TWbasketcase). If she wrote an Outsiders story I would write a Breakfast Club story. So here it is.**

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**Fate**

Fate _n_: 1. the supposed force, principle, or power that predetermines events. 2. the inevitable events predestined by this force.- Webster's Dictionary

Chapter One

Allison Reynolds shuffled into her third period English classroom unnoticed. She made her worn black Converse sneakers squeak on the tiled floor as she walked. It was a little game she played with herself to see how long it took for someone to become aware of her. This time it took thirty seconds of the noise for someone to look at her. Brian Johnson, one of the smart kids in the front row, glanced up at her from his notebook, looking annoyed that she had disturbed his work.

Allison stared at him with raised eyebrows as she walked past him to her desk, squeaking her sneakers every step of the way. At her desk in the back of the room she pulled out her composition book.

Allison had kept one of these composition books with the black and white splotched covers since she was in the fifth grade. They lay stacked under her bed; hidden from view by the dust ruffle. She never ripped out pages or threw them away because even though some of the things she wrote were silly and embarrassing that was who she was at that exact moment in time. They were as much a part of her as her right arm or her liver. She always carried one with her, so she would never be bored. She had, had this one for about two months now, and it was over halfway filled with poems and doodles, scribbles and drawings.

She was putting the finishing touches to a drawing she had made yesterday of a mountain scene when Ms. O'Conner, the English teacher, clapped her hands, trying to get the attention of the 25 teenagers seated before her. She was one of those teachers who are fresh out of college, that are still excited about sculpting young minds. She put stickers on tests if you got above a 90 and drew a sad face if you got below a 70. Allison hated her, even if she did like English.

"Class!" Ms. O'Conner said, attempting to raise her voice over the din. Her voice was so soft, like velvet, that Allison doubted she could have gained the students attention if she shouted at the top of her lungs. Finally most of the students quieted down, except for a few of the school criminals who were sitting in the back of the room near Allison. They were playing a game of poker, betting cigarettes. This was, of course, going unnoticed by the teacher. Allison rolled her eyes at how inept Ms. O'Conner was. "Now today I have a special surprise for you!" Ms. O'Conner said in her soft peppy voice.

A groan came from the middle of the room, where the jocks and the princesses sat. Those were the most coveted seats in the classrooms of Shermer High because they were far away enough to pass notes without the teacher seeing, but close enough to get out the door quickly so they could stand around chatting in the hallway before their next class.

"We are going to be starting our poetry projects today," Ms. O'Conner announced pretending she hadn't heard the groan as she passed out papers to the people in the front rows. "Take one of each sheet and pass them back." The beefy linebacker of the football team who sat in front of Allison dropped the papers on top of her notebook, not turning around to look at her. Allison blew her bangs out of her eyes as she continued working on her drawing, pushing the papers aside.

She didn't listen to a word Ms. O'Conner said about the project until she started reading off the partners. Allison hated when she had to work in partners with someone because that required talking to them. She would much rather work on the project alone. She balanced her chin in the palm of her hand as Ms. O'Conner read the names.

"Andrew Clark you will be working with Allison Reynolds," the young teacher announced. Allison let out a squeak. Andrew Clark was the most popular boy in school. Andrew Clark was the star of the wrestling team. Andrew Clark didn't know she existed, despite the fact that they had been in the same classes since freshmen year.

Allison glanced over at him. He was looking around confused, whispering something to the football player who sat beside him. The football player shrugged and Andy looked around the room again.

"Ms. O'Conner?" he asked, raising his hand as she was pairing Claire Standish, the school's Queen Bee, with John Bender, one of the potheads in the back of the room playing poker. Neither party looked to happy about the assignment.

"Yes Andrew?" she chirped, looking at him over her pink framed reading glasses.

"Who's Allison Reynolds?" he asked. John Bender and his thug friends laughed.

"Hey jock strap, she's right over there." Bender said pointing to Allison, who glued her eyes to her notebook, letting her dark hair fall in her face. She could feel her classmates' eyes on her and it made her uncomfortable. "Maybe you would have figured that out if you hadn't been lobotomized."

"That's enough Mr. Bender." Ms. O'Conner said clearing her throat, trying to regain control of the room. Andy looked to the girl Bender had been pointing at. Her messy brown hair was in her eyes and she wasn't looking at anyone, instead she was bent over her notebook, scribbling. Andy didn't even realize she was in this class. "Alright now go sit with your partner for the rest of the period. Plan out who's doing what when we go to the library tomorrow," the young teacher said.

"Hey," Andy said, coming over to her. He sat backwards in the desk in front of her so he could face her. Allison looked up from her drawing and stared at him. When it was clear he was waiting for a reply she simply raised her eyebrows.

"Okay then…" Andy said. He glanced at the papers Ms. O'Conner had handed out. "So we have to pick a poet and write a biography about them and pick some of their most famous poems. I guess we should pick a poet, huh? Any ideas?"

Allison blew her hair out of her eyes and shrugged. "Whatever," she mumbled. Her voice sounded almost gravely, like it wasn't used very often. Andrew sighed, already exasperated with her when the bell rang.

"Okay, we'll figure it out tomorrow. See ya." Andy said, standing up immediately. He grabbed his books and walked out the door talking to one of his friends about the basketball game that was on the night before as Claire Standish complained to one of her fellow princesses about how John Bender kept calling her "Cherry".


	2. Home Sweet Home

**Thank you to tk421beth and MidnightBlue88 who both pointed out to me that the last paragraph in the pervious chapter was odd. The two middle lines were flip flopped for some reason. I'm sorry if it confused anyone. It's fixed now.**

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Chapter Two

Allison liked rain. She enjoyed the pitter-pattering sound it made on windows. She loved the way the earth smelled the next day. However the one thing that she wasn't fond of was that when it rained it meant she had to ride the bus home instead of walking. She could have walked home if she really wanted to but Allison was like a cat, she didn't like to get wet if it wasn't necessary.

The bus was full of shrill and obnoxious freshman and sophomores and a few upperclassmen who didn't own cars. Where people sat was similar to where people sat in Allison's English class. The nerds sat up front talking about Dungeons and Dragons or Star Trek while the Claire Standish's of the younger set sat in the middle of the vehicle while chattering incessantly about boys and shopping, using the word like as many times as humanly possible and talking in loud voices. The sports sat with the princesses. They talked in even louder voices as they horsed around and threw wads of paper at the nerds. The criminals who road the bus sat in the very back, making fun of the jocks and princesses and geeks and trying to sneak cigarettes without the driver noticing.

Allison shook the rain out of her hair as she boarded the bus after the final bell. She took an open seat near the back, in between the criminals and the popular kids. She was aware that people were staring at her. Although it still made her uncomfortable it wasn't anything she wasn't used to. She leaned back in the worn seat, staring out the window at the rain as the bus pulled away from the school.

It was then that a few of the princesses started whispering about her behind their hands, talking just loud enough so she could hear them. This bothered Allison more than anything. It was one thing to make fun of her when she was out of earshot but to have people giggle about the way she looked when she was right there was another. Allison looked over at them, catching their eyes to make sure they knew she had heard them. After she had made her point she turned her gaze back to the window and watched the rain fall.

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Twenty minutes later the bus dropped Allison off at her house. As she walked up the path to her front door she didn't make any effort to shield herself from the rain which had started to fall faster. She fumbled in her bag for her key before sliding it easily into the lock and opening the door. 

Immediately she was greeted by her German Shepard, Dallas. Dallas had been a Christmas present to her and her sister Amy when they were eleven. Although he was getting to be an old dog Dallas was still as playful as he had been when he was a puppy.

"Hey buddy," Allison said, bending down to scratch him behind the ears before heading down the hallway to the kitchen. Her mother, who was sitting at the breakfast table reading a novel, didn't look up as she entered the room.

"Don't spoil your dinner," Mrs. Reynolds said turning a page in her book as Allison picked an apple out of the fruit bowl next to the coffee pot. Ignoring her mother's comment she exited the kitchen and headed up the stairs to her bedroom.

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Allison liked her room. She had shared it with her twin sister Amy when they were little but now Allison's room was her own. She had posters of Cyndi Lauper and Pat Benatar and some of her drawings taped up on her off-white walls. Her bed was always unmade and her desk was always cluttered with old notebooks and loose papers. Clothing littered the area in front of her closet and her bookcase was a jumble of novels stuck every which way. In the frame of the mirror above her dresser she had stuck her pictures, although she had few of those. There was one of Dallas when he was a puppy and one of her and Amy in the photo booth at the mall when they were ten, giving each other bunny ears and crossing their eyes as they mugged for the camera. 

Allison dumped her bag on her bed, pulling out her composition book. She sat down at her desk and turned to a fresh page, picking up the nearest ballpoint pen. Allison wanted to talk to Amy on days like this but since that wasn't an option writing seemed to be the best substitute. Allison bit the cap of the pen until the words came to her.

_Dear Amy,  
__Today in English Ms. O'Conner paired me with Andy Clark, the most popular boy in school. He didn't even know who I was. The whole thing was amusing, but a little saddening at the same time for some reason. We have to do this stupid poetry thing. You would probably be really into it but I'm not. To make matters worse I had to ride the bus home. These stupid freshman and sophomore girls were talking about me, just loud enough so I could hear them. I hate that! You would have probably marched right up to them and told them off but I'm not brave like you are. I wish I was. I miss you._

Allison dated the entry and leaned back in her desk chair, pulling her feet up under her. She sat there daydreaming until her father came home. Allison didn't trust her parents to remember to call her for dinner so over the years she had learned to listen for her father's car in the driveway. Her mother wouldn't serve dinner until her father was home so once he arrived Allison knew it was time to head downstairs.

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Dinner was always a very quiet affair at in the Reynolds's household. Her father, who was a manager of a business, always came home from the end of the day stressed so he didn't talk much, only to ask for someone to pass him the pepper. He didn't really care to hear anyone else at the table talk either because he was worried about more important work related things. Her mother was a quiet person by nature, in fact most nights Mrs. Reynolds read a book as she ate. 

"Pass the mashed potatoes Allison," her father said, not looking up from his meatloaf. Allison did as she was told; wondering if those would be the only words her father would speak to her that night. Again Allison found herself missing her sister. She looked over to the chair that Amy had once sat in. If Amy were there she would have gotten the whole family in a discussion about anything from Gone with the Wind to the Periodic Table of Elements.

Allison pushed her chair back and stood up, unable to finish the rest of her dinner. She didn't ask to be excused. Her parents would hardly notice she left, unless one of them asked her to pass them something. She scraped the remains of her supper into the trashcan, pushing Dallas's nose away from her plate, before she headed back upstairs to her bedroom where she spent the remainder of her night doing her homework.


	3. The Library

**The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson is a real book which I do not own. I also do not own either of the poems that Andy talks about or the book of T.S. Eliot poems Brian is reading. And I am not the owner of the dirty limerick that Bender started to recite. Michelle Manning's name is on the poster from Prom Queen at the beginning of the movie in case you didn't know who she is. I'm kind of worried about how my Andy is turning out. I just can't get inside that boy's head. Any suggestions would be appreciated.**

Chapter Three

Allison walked into the library just as the bell rang, signaling the beginning of third period. Ms. O'Conner expected her students to be sitting in their desks before the bell rang but Allison always managed to slip in unnoticed, being invisible did have it's advantages some times. Besides it wasn't her fault that her second period U.S. history class was on the other side of the building from the library.

She saw Andrew sitting at one of the tables near the front library. Sitting next to him was another one of the jocks who was called Stubby by everyone including the teachers. On the other side of the table sat Brian Johnson who had his nose buried in some fantasy novel. He has to be Stubby's partner for the assignment because there was no way Brian Johnson would be sitting at the same table as two of Shermer's golden boys any other day, Allison thought as she dropped her bag on the floor and slipped into the seat beside Brian.

"Nice partner, man." Stubby said in a voice that Allison could plainly hear as he elbowed Andy in the ribs.

"I could say the same to you," Andrew answered in a voice that was quieter than Stubby's but still perceptible. Allison wondered if Brian could hear this. If he could he didn't show it. Allison wondered if she showed it.

"Alright class." Ms. O'Conner said walking up the front of the library. "I going to assume you all have picked a poet for your projects so I'll let you all go find your books." Allison rolled her eyes at her teacher as she opened her composition book. She had started drawing a picture the night before after she had finished her homework and she wanted to finish it. It was of a cliff over looking the ocean. Allison pictured herself standing on that cliff, breathing in the unique scent of salt air as she stared down at the blue-green water.

"Allison?" a voice jarred her out of her thoughts. She looked up at Andy who was looking at her oddly. Brian and Stubby had both left the table. "We should probably get started. I don't know anything about poetry. The only poems I know are Casey At Bat and that one about gold and how it can't stay," he said brushing his blond hair back with his hand. He looked at her notebook curiously, trying to examine her picture upside down. "Hey, that's a good drawing…" he said, reaching over to move the notebook so he could get a better look. Allison made an angry noise and slammed the composition book shut.

"Don't." she said in an icy voice. Andy raised his eyebrows at her outburst and muttered 'sorry' under his breath before getting up to go into the stacks to talk to Stubby. Allison threw her pencil down on top of her notebook irritably. Who did Andrew Clark think he was looking in her personal notebook? Nobody was aloud to. Not even Amy was when she was around.

"Allison, why aren't you looking for books with Andrew?" Ms. O'Conner asked as she walked by. She studied Allison over her pink framed reading glasses. Allison shrugged. "Have you selected a poet yet?" Allison shook her head. Ms. O'Conner pursed her lips. "How about Emily Dickinson? I think you would enjoy learning about her," the young teacher said patting Allison lightly on the shoulder before she went to stop John Bender from carving profanities into a nearby table.

Allison sighed as she stood up and walked over to the card catalogue. Emily Dickinson wasn't a bad poet. In fact Allison liked her poetry. It was the fact that Ms. O'Conner had suggested Emily Dickinson to her. Just because she was a loner didn't mean that she was going to become a total recluse and never go outside. She dug through it until she found a book called The Complete Poems of Emily Dickinson. After scribbling the call number for the book on a piece of scrap paper she headed to the stacks. She nearly collided with Brian who had his nose in a book of T.S. Eliot poems. He was muttering something about mermaids and drowning, hardly noticing that he almost bumped into someone.

Allison ran her finger along the worn spines of books, looking for the Emily Dickinson one. She had finally found it when Andy came over to her.

"Emily Dickinson is who you want to do the project on?" he asked as he studied the cover. Allison nodded. "Okay. Wasn't she that crazy lady who locked herself up in her house and wouldn't come out?" Allison rolled her eyes and picked up another book about Emily Dickinson off the shelf and handed it to him before turning on her heel.

"That's enough Mr. Bender!" Ms. O'Conner was saying as Allison walked back to her table. Claire Standish was sharing disgusted looks with Michelle Manning who was sitting next to her while Larry Lester bent over a notebook, pretending to work but really listening to the conversations that were taking place around him.

"All I asked was who wrote the poem that goes 'there once was a girl from Nantucket…' It is a poem." Bender said innocently but Ms. O'Conner cut him off by sending him to Vernon's office.

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When the bell rang to end third period it startled Allison. She had been reading the book of Emily Dickinson that she had pulled off the shelf and she was so absorbed in it she hadn't realized that the end of the period had come. Andrew had spent the remained of the period not looking at the book Allison had handed him but listening to Stubby talk about how much he wanted to get into Michelle Manning's jeans. 

"Alright class, we'll meet back in the classroom tomorrow." Ms. O'Conner said. Andy gathered his books and stood up, pausing for a moment as Allison put her composition notebook in her bag.

"See ya," he muttered to her before he headed out the door with Stubby. Allison nodded to him as she took her Emily Dickinson book and the one Andy had abandoned up to the check out desk.


	4. Lunch and Home

**Sorry about the lack of updates. I had a little bit of writer's block with this, but it's all good now. This chapter is basically filler and it's short too just to warn you. But the next chapter should be longer, there's a lot of stuff revealed in it, especially about Amy if you were wondering about her. And FYI: I don't own the World Book Encyclopedia. This is dedicated to everyone who reviewed. I'm the first to admit I'm an attention whore so I always get a warm fuzzy feeling inside when I see I have reviews!**

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Chapter Four

"Allison?"

Allison looked up from her bologna sandwich to see Andrew standing in front of her. He clutched a grocery bag in one fist and he kept glancing over to the table he sat at with Stubby and the other jocks. Allison raised her eyebrows, her way of telling him to continue.

"We need to start writing our report. Ms. O'Conner isn't gonna give us any more time in class to do it…" Andy paused, looking around again. "I have wrestling practice after school but we can do it after it's over." He looked to Allison to see if she had a problem with this proposition. She shrugged which he took to mean that it was alright with her. "I have three little brothers so my house is really noisy. Can we do it at your place?" he asked, speaking softer than usual. Not that it mattered; there wasn't anyone around to hear him. Allison ate alone in a corner at the back of the lunch room. She liked the table because it was by a large window so she could watch the occasional bird fly by or if she was lucky a squirrel would scamper past. Nobody sat near her, mostly because they wanted to sit near the doors to make a hasty exit when the bell rang.

Allison bit her lower lip as she thought. "I guess," she mumbled. Andy nodded.

"Good. Just write down your address and I'll be over about seven," he said. He drummed his fingers on the tabletop as she scribbled her address down on a piece of paper she pulled out of her algebra folder. Andy stuffed it in his pocket and muttered "Catch ya later."

Allison returned to her sandwich but she couldn't help but watch him head over to his table. He gave Stubby a high five before he sat down and pulled out what seemed like five sandwiches. Allison wondered how he could eat so much. She knew boys ate a lot, at least that's what she had observed around the lunchroom. But five sandwiches seemed a little much. However she put thoughts of Andrew's dietary habits out of her head and opened up her composition notebook. She flipped past the picture of the cliff overlooking the ocean to the next fresh page. She thought about writing another letter to Amy but the words didn't come.

Frustrated she threw away what was left of her sandwich and gathered her books. Technically students of Shermer High School weren't allowed to leave the cafeteria until the bell rang but Allison did every so often anyway. She would go up the back stairwell to the top floor and sit in front of her locker before the bell rang and she had to go to French.

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Allison didn't tell her parents that Andrew was coming. Not that they would care. They probably wouldn't even notice. After dinner her father would go upstairs to his study to read the newspaper and her mother would go watch mindless sitcoms in the den.

After dinner Allison remained in the kitchen instead of going up to her room. She sat at the counter on one of the bar stools and doodled animals on a stray napkin. She wasn't going to be surprised if Andy didn't show, she was used to people breaking promises to her.

However, she should have had a little more faith in him because just a few minutes after seven the doorbell rang. Dallas galloped down the hall, barking loudly as he always did when someone was at the door. Her parents were hardly bothered by the dog any more. They paid as much attention to Dallas as they did to Allison, which wasn't much. Allison held her dog back as she opened the door.

"Hey." Andy said. His hair was wet, as if he had just gotten out of the shower.

"Hi." Allison mumbled softly, releasing Dallas who bounded over to Andy, begging with his puppy dog eyes for attention. Andy laughed and patted the canine's head.

"What's his name?" he asked.

"Dallas." Allison answered. Was she actually having a normal conversation with Andrew Clark the wonder jock?

After Dallas had got done sniffing Andy's sneakers and got his ears scratched enough he ambled away, probably up to Allison's room where he would curl up at the foot of her bed. Andy looked around the hallway, Allison noticed his eyes going over the photographs her parents had framed and nailed to the wall long ago.

After a few moments of silence Allison realized that she probably should lead him to the kitchen where they would be working. She never had been good at social situations. She started walking down the hallway, looking back to see if Andy was following her. He was, but his eyes were still on the pictures.

"You have a twin sister?" Andy asked, pointing to a picture of Amy and Allison when they were four in matching sailor suits. The only way you could tell them apart was that Amy's sailor suit was trimmed with dark blue and Allison's was trimmed with red. Allison nodded.

"Are you identical?" he asked. Allison nodded again.

"She doesn't go to our school, does she?" Allison stopped as he asked this. She bit her lower lip.

"No," she whispered before continuing into the kitchen. She sat down at the table without inviting him to do the same and pulled out the two Emily Dickinson books she had checked out of the school library. She also had laid out the D volume of her father's World Book Encyclopedia set. Andy sighed as he sank down into the chair beside her, pulling a notebook out of his bag.

"I guess we should get started, huh?" he said taking one of the Emily Dickinson books. Allison noticed that it was the one she had handed to him earlier in the library. Allison took the other book and opened to where she left off.


End file.
